The Freedom Broker (Thea Paris #1)(60)

“Until tonight.” Jemwa strode down the pathway to the front entrance.

“What the hell is he up to?” she asked.

“General Ita Jemwa was Nikos’s original kidnapper. It was never my confidence to break, but, given the circumstances, you need to know about the past,” Rif said.

“How do you know this?” Was she the only one who’d been kept in the dark?

“I discovered the combination to my father’s safe and read Nikos’s journal. Christos had asked my father to keep the notes private, but I was a nosy kid.”

“You know about Oba?”

“Yes. How do—”

“Someone slipped Nikos’s psychiatrist’s notes into my computer bag. Not you?”

“No, I haven’t seen those pages in years.”

“Does Nikos realize what you know?” she asked.

“He caught me ransacking the safe. I often wonder what he was doing in my father’s study. Maybe he wanted his journal back.”

No wonder Nikos felt so hostile toward Rif. Having the worst moments of your life exposed—especially to a younger boy, who’d snuck access to the information—couldn’t have been easy.

As they headed toward the hotel entrance, a wave of dizziness washed over her. She needed insulin, food, and rest. Two out of three were essential.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Just worried. Let’s check in.” She nodded to the doorman, a tall man with a winsome smile dressed in a reddish-brown topcoat and hat. Everyone in the hotel exuded human warmth, creating an incredibly welcoming atmosphere.

“Fill me in. Did the kidnapper send a ransom demand?” Rif asked.

“No, another Latin text. I’m beginning to worry that all the money in the world isn’t going to save Papa.”





Chapter Forty-One



The lights in the 767’s cabin dimmed as the meal service ended. Max had insisted on upgrading them to first class. Gabrielle had gone along with the luxury because she hoped to get some quality sleep before they arrived at the summit in Zimbabwe on the trail of Thea Paris. Besides, the food was a lot better up front.

While Max communicated with his office, she read the encrypted texts from her boss, Stephen Kelly, at HRFC. Disappointment flooded her. The SEAL team had recovered a bank executive in Syria, not Christos Paris. She tried to reach Thea with the news but had no luck, so she called Hakan instead. The owner of Quantum International Security was professional, intelligent—he had a good team on the kidnapping, and she hoped to find a way to assist, as the political pressure to bring the oil billionaire home was mounting.

While she normally wasn’t mandated to carry a weapon outside the US, she’d contacted a friend who was a former CIA operative. He’d be kitting her up while she was in Africa. If there was trouble, she wanted to be armed and ready.

Two glasses of full-bodied Cabernet Sauvignon left her muscles relaxed, the plush blanket soft against her arms. She’d phoned her sister to check on how her latest chemo session had gone. “My hair is Marine-ready,” Adriana had told her. “I’m going down to the recruiting office today.” Her sense of humor and optimistic attitude while fighting stage three breast cancer were humbling. Gabrielle pressed the end button, hating to say good-bye.

“Your sister?” Max asked.

“On round two now. I should be there with her.”

“But she disagreed.”

“Exactly. I booked vacation days to look after her during round one. Maybe it was my cooking that put her off.” She tried to smile but knew the mirth didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Even people who are very ill still need to feel independent sometimes. They already give up so much, they need some semblance of control.”

He was right. Adriana was just trying to hold on to what she could. “How’s your sister, Max?” She should have asked sooner, but they’d been so focused on the case.

“About the same.” Pain shimmered in his eyes. It was rare to see a man so open about his raw emotions. “Although we didn’t always live in the same house, we spent a lot of time together.”

Right; she remembered that they were half siblings, sharing a mother. She squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry. It’s horrible to watch someone you love suffer.”

“Memories of you and me in Athens help get me through the pain.” His powerful hand slid under the blanket and rested just above her knee. “I’ve missed you, Gabrielle.”

Whoa. She peeled his fingers off her leg. “We live in different countries, have different lives.”

“And that’s why we need to make the most of every moment we have together.”

His hand returned, sliding up her inner thigh. Excitement shot through her body. He made her feel animated, adrenalized. She should resist, maintain her professionalism, but the wine had weakened her resolve. She wanted to say yes.

He pulled aside her lace panties. The cool air tingled on her exposed flesh. She shivered. He thrust two fingers inside her. She gasped.

The flight attendant arrived with a tray of drinks. “Can I offer either of you a nightcap?”

Gabrielle tried to maintain a calm fa?ade so the attendant wouldn’t know what was going on underneath the blanket. “No, we’re good, thanks.” Better than good.